


Through the Doors of Perception (Acid Trip)

by Spiritheart (orphan_account)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Early 1970’s, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Reincarnation, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Slurs typical of time period, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Spiritheart
Summary: Coming of age in the early 1970’s and being gay, Laurent has been through a lot. Thanks to a mystical magical acid trip he finds true love once again with the man who has been looking for him for over a thousand years.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Through the Doors of Perception (Acid Trip)

My muse is the artist ThalassicThedes and this is her beautiful art! 

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A4Me1297FVBpxmTuUbS0GcKyGyujcfB8

Above him violet tinged clouds and threatening thunder rode the sky. All around the carnage of battle. Laurent knew he was dreaming. The dream had come so many times he’d now come to awareness I’m here again. The scene so familiar yet just as horrifying as the first time he’d had this nightmare as a child.

He was back on the battlefield as two warriors, dark and light, engaged in a duel to the death. As always one was Auguste, wearing battered, silvered armor emblazoned with a star, blond hair dark with sweat. The other, a massive dark Greek looking warrior. Crested helmet, leather skirt, half armor and vambraces.

He was so close, he could hear their grunts of exertion and rhythmic clang of their swords. Stricken, afraid to move, he helplessly viewed their engagement. The duel seemingly too even for either to win.

He knew that wasn’t true though. He knew what was going to happen, what always happened. Even so, his heart jolted as Auguste feinted and in a brilliant maneuver unarmed his opponent.

Time slowed as they both turned to him, executioner and savior. Once more the dreaded realization that they were expecting him to choose. Who would live and who would die.

Of course it was Auguste. It had to be. Except, the other felt as equally beloved, as deeply familiar as his brother. Looking between them, he couldn’t choose.

Auguste’s look of understanding and resignation stripped him bare. He turned to his opponent and indicated the dark warrior pick up his sword.

“No! Auguste! Don’t!” He tried to move. “Please!” He had to stop them. He knew what came next. What always came next, because when he didn’t choose Auguste, that hesitation meant his death. He struggled to awaken, to come out of it before it happened. I’m dreaming, it’s a dream. I can’t see Auguste die another time. Wake up Laurent!

He jerked awake, terror spilling down his back, bent over gasping, his heart wilding in his chest. The same twisting in his gut and lancing agony through his chest. He’d failed again. He had hesitated and that was choice. Choice to let the dark warrior pick up his sword and plunge his sword into Auguste’s stomach.

When he was little he’d run into Auguste’s room and jump in his bed, waking him up, crying, “I’m sorry! I pick you!” Auguste would shake himself from sleep and enfold him saying, “It’s just a dream. It’s okay. Go back to sleep.” He’d turn his wet face into his chest and hold his brother like a lifeline. Auguste would sleepily stroke his hair, murmuring wordless comforts.

The desperate urge was there still, to find Auguste, touch him and assure himself he was alive. He fought the need to call Auguste, living across town in his own apartment, to just hear his voice. He’d understand. He always did. But no, he wouldn’t waken him.

He lay down, seeing in his mind’s eye the powerful body of the other man, who seemed essential to him as surely as Auguste, but more intimately. He’d never seen his face, there were only these intense dark eyes that were so strangely familiar. Even now he was helpless to the confused yearning that thrummed under the surface of his distress. The impossible truth that this dream enemy was as beloved as Auguste. Auguste, who was his brother.

He robotically reached for his favorite book and settled back to read. _Fire from Heaven_ by Mary Renault. It was soothing after so many readings. It would help him calm down and maybe he would even sleep again tonight.

He’d always liked history, was fascinated by Ancient Greece. He’s picked up _Fire from Heaven_ in the library, interested in learning more about Alexander’s life. It had developed into the story of Alexander and his best friend and lover Hephaestion. When he’d first read about boys going together like it was acceptable, even normal, a jolt of electricity had gone up his spine. He’d looked around the library to see of anyone was watching him and could see he’d just had a life changing moment.

He’d worried the librarians had no concept this was a book about two historic gay guys and when they did the book would be gone. He’d kept renewing it, trying to keep it in case they figured it out. Then two birthdays ago, there it had been. His own copy. From Auguste.

He opened to his favorite chapter, the one in which Hephaestion and Alexander fall into the truest of loves. It entranced him like it always did and he drifted off dreamily imagining being loved like that.

His Mom’s soft voice and gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from sleep. The sun was too bright through the window. He squinted his eyes against it.

“Honey, Auguste is on the phone for you. I let you sleep in. Did you have a bad night?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Bad dream?” Her voice was worried, her usually sweet face tense.

“I’m okay. I guess I just needed the sleep.”

She gave him that Mom look that said she knew he was trying to avoid the subject but didn’t take it further.

“Okay well, he’s waiting on the phone.”

He threw back the covers and pulled on the Levis he’s dropped by the bed.

He scrambled down the stairs and she was waiting, stretching the yellow phone cord around the corner from the kitchen. As he took the phone from her as she said, “Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch,” and squeezed his shoulder. Another Mom look. This one full of love.

“Hi Auguste.” He was such a good brother and he wished he could be more like him. Comfortable with everyone. Comfortable with himself.

“Dude, you’re going out with us today. Mom already said you can. You might want to wear shorts. It’s gonna be hot.” Oh no. He had that tone that made everyone just automatically do as he said. He had that way about him.

“Where are you taking me?” Dread tightening his stomach.

“We’re going to a rock festival! Some really big names are playing. The Grateful Dead for one!”

A quick excuse came out automatically. “I was going to go riding.” He hated crowds. People.

Auguste’s voice got quiet and concerned. “Are you feeling bummed? Anything we should talk about?” He heard what he didn’t say. Are you depressed again? Are you cutting?

“No, I promised you I’d stop and I did. I’m better.” He hated that Auguste worried about him.

“Good, but you need to get out of that house and be with people. The guys are coming too. We’ll be there in a half hour.” Click. Auguste hung up before he could say another word.

Laurent went around the corner and carefully placed the phone on the wall, untwisting the cord, while he considered and discarded ways to get out of it. It was difficult to get around Auguste in this mood.

He knew about festivals like Woodstock. He wasn’t that uncool. He liked rock music as much as the next guy. Most guys didn’t jerk off thinking about Mick Jagger though.

He was used to people calling him homo and fag. Maybe because he was seventeen and had never dated. Or because his hair was blonde, over his shoulders and everyone said he had a face as pretty as a girls. He was so over people asking him, “Why is your name Laurent? Isn’t that a girls’ name?”

Explaining “I’m French and it’s a French name,” just made them look at him even more oddly.

He started cutting when he was thirteen, when the bullying started. He didn’t know how the other kids could see his gayness before he had it figured out for himself. First little whispers about how Laurent is a homo. Notes that showed up on his desk with a crude pictures of him sucking a cock. Then the open catcalls of queer and fag. Even his friends turned against him.

His best friend Jack started distancing himself as soon as the jocks stepped up the bullying. Then the day they said, “Hey butt fuckers, show us how you kiss,” and Jack had ruthlessly cut him out of his life. Then he’d joined in, becoming the worst of them, and after that Laurent just hated himself.

He didn’t know how the other kids could see his gayness, but they did. He’d always had crushes on boys and girls too, but his strongest feelings were for boys. Girls were just nice. Guys made him hard. When he had admitted to himself they were right, that had been the worst moment of his life.

It seemed like everyone could see through him into his most private secret places and just knew he was made wrong and disgusting and a queer. Their eyes scalded him, watching him derisively. It made him feel so excruciatingly exposed. He walked around the school with shame churning in his gut and fear blanking his mind.

Only cutting had made the that pain stop.

He remembered the first time he took home a straight razor they’d been using in art class. He’d held it a long time in the bathroom, feeling such self-loathing, so much anger and pain, wanting to hurt himself. He made a sudden deep cut on the inside of his arm, higher up, testing. It went in so easily and for a moment he felt nothing. Then there was bright blood and pain so intense that tears blurred his vision. Only then he could cry. About all of it. Huge tearing sobs that he wailed into his pillow.

On a day when his long sleeve fell back accidently, Auguste saw the cuts inside his arm. His family had already been worried because he spent most of his time on his room reading and avoiding them. At his parent’s insistence he started riding and fencing lessons to get him out of the house and especially out of his room. He refused to tell them about the bullying. He wasn’t a snitch.

They probably knew he was gay. They never asked. He never said the words. He didn’t think he should have to.

It helped when Auguste’s best friends Jord and Lazar came out to him as a couple. Hanging out with them at Auguste’s apartment, seeing them so in love and cuddling like it was normal, started making him see himself differently. It wasn’t just about two guys having sex, like most the world seemed to think. It was about love and he wanted love. And well, sex too, but love first.

Over time he’d figured out how to back off the bullies. Now when they ganged up on him, taunting, “Hey, Lauren, you like to suck cocks right?” He’d say flippantly, “Why are you so interested in me? Looking for a boyfriend?” Or he’d flat out call someone’s number. “Ken, why are you looking at my crotch? See something you like?”

Turning it on them had earned him some respect. He was the weird kid that rode horses and fenced. Yeah, that was gay for a guy to do, but fearing his bold mouth they usually left him alone.

Somedays he still thought if there was a way to un-gay people he’d be first in line. Other times it felt so right. Spending time with Lazar and Jord was his haven, because they were a just a regular couple. They were so normal, cooking together, making out, watching movies and he loved the way they called each other babe. That made his chest ache so much. Would he ever find someone who said that to him? Who loved him like Alexander loved Hephaestion?

Jord and Lazar would be at this festival so it might be all right. He’d heard of guys getting beat up by homophobic rednecks, but a rock concert should be all peace and love. Probably safe. After that dream he always liked to see Auguste and reassure himself he was okay. Yeah, he would go.

He took a shower and gave his hair a quick blow dry. He wore his favorite Levi cut offs and went with a baby blue t-shirt to show off his tan from his summer job at the stable.

He grabbed a grilled cheese and a coke as he ran through the kitchen and out the screen door. Auguste was outside honking the horn of his gold Chevy van. Jord was in the back so he had shotgun. They were pregaming it with a fat joint and were at that point where they thought everything they said was hilarious.

They were in the middle of discussing their stoned out theory that aliens had started the postal service to keep track of people and that stamps had tracking devices. Laurent quickly bit into his sandwich. When they got the munchies they’d be after his lunch.

Jord sat forward and waved the joint in his face, “Come on Laurent, take a toke.”

Honestly, there was enough smoke in the van alone to get him high.

Laurent said, “You’re stoned enough for both of us. Auguste do you need me to drive?”

Auguste, with a smile like the Cheshire Cat said, “No, I’m good!” He gave him a one armed hug and said, “Ready to have some fun?”

“I guess?”

Auguste slammed a cassette into the deck and Led Zeppelin blasted out of his custom speakers. They peeled out, while Jord and Auguste sang along with the band’s every orgasmic scream.

They picked up Lazar on the outskirts of the city where he’d been visiting their dealer, the guy everyone called the Pharmacist. If he had a real name, Laurent didn’t know it. Lazar bounced in the back, said “Hey babe,” and gave Jord a full on kiss before announcing, “Guess what I scored? Some Orange Sunshine!”

Auguste and Jord high fived him and hooted, “You’re the man!” Lazar continued, “And not any of that shit cut with speed! This is for real California acid. Definitely will blow your mind!”

He brought out little squares of paper and handed them around. Auguste and Jord promptly swallowed theirs while he looked at his with trepidation. It had a blotch of something on the paper. “It’s microdot,” Lazar said helpfully. Laurent had heard of it. He’d also heard the rumor that a senior had taken acid and jumped off the water tower. Probably an urban legend.

He was snapped out of his reverie by a trio of voices urging him to, “Trip with us little bro!” Seeing Auguste looking at him with that wild, let’s party look in his eyes, made him want to let loose for once. He threw it in his mouth and swallowed before he could second guess it. It tasted, well, like paper. They all cheered and getting Auguste’s fist bump made him feel like one of the guys. He wasn’t above wanting to belong. For once he wanted to not think and control his every move so he didn’t seem too gay.

They sped along out into the country. He wondered what to expect. He didn’t want his mind blown. That sounded terrifying. He’d better ask some questions. He yelled back to Jord, “How long does it take to work?” Jord made a vague gesture, “Oh you should be feeling it pretty soon.” Feel what? He didn’t even know how to phrase the right question.

He looked out at the fields and farms trying to relax and cranked the window for some fresh air. Clean, hay scented air blew in, clearing out the smoke.

Then it started.

He had the strangest sensation of weightlessness. He put his head out the window and looked between the van and the road. Holy shit. The van was floating. A sense of vertigo and slight panic followed. What was stopping them from floating right off the road? But it felt very cool, like they were on a magic carpet.

His attention was drawn to his hand. How had he never noticed how beautiful it was, pulsing with life and wow, there was this blue shimmering light all around it! He moved his hand and watched transfixed as sparkles cast off his hand like pixie dust. He aimed some at Auguste who had his head back, his laugh spiraling out of his mouth in swirling multi-colors. Okay, this was obviously a good trip not one of the bad ones he’s heard about.

He looked around the van and the orange shag carpet snagged his attention. It was undulating like some crazy undersea plants. He looked closer. He could see every fiber wriggling happily. So, carpet was alive?

He heard his name and looked up, slowly, dreamily, reluctant to leave the carpet show. Lazar leaned over his seat, snapping his fingers in his face to get his attention.

“We’re here! Woah, little bro is tripping his ass off!”

He looked outside and realized the van was hovering in a field surrounded by woods. Everything outside was so bright and alive, strobing waves of light and energy. The guys were getting out, so he stepped carefully out of the floating car and found solid ground.

A sea of fantastical people were streaming towards the music emanating through the trees. They joined the crowd moving together with one vibe. He smiled at a girl next to him whose red hair was pulsating to the beat of the music. Her long gypsy skirt was throwing off rainbow streamers. She smiled back, took off one of her beaded necklaces and put it around his neck. “Beautiful!” she crooned and moved ahead with a guy with a feathered vest and a leather headband.

He took in the crowd of sparkly people and had a rush of love for them all. He just knew they loved him too. Something shifted inside. Everything around him, the trees, the people, and the sky were connected. It was so obvious, They were all One. He wasn’t alone. He belonged.

As the beautiful caravan of people entered the woods, called to the altar of the music, he felt a tug on his arm. Amazingly, a dragonfly had landed on him and was gazing at him with impatience. Far out, it was actually a tiny man with dragonfly wings wearing leather pants with a turquoise and silver belt.

“Are you a fairy?”

_“Sure, close enough.”_ Sassy dragonfly fairy. _Follow me._

“Why?”

_“To meet your true love. He’s been looking for you for a long time.”_

He considered it. This was obviously all the acid trip. It wasn’t real and this was his day to loosen up and go with the flow. He looked around for the guys but they were already swallowed by the crowd. He decided to follow this trippy fairy to his true love.

The dragonfly fairy led the way through another part of the woods away from the crowd, dipping and zooming like a fighter jet. He got lost a few times, like when he stopped to touch the shimmering silver skin of a great oak tree. Or stood still as he noticed how wild it was that the wind was petting his skin.

A hummingbird winged fairy joined the first one. They hovered in front of him conversing. The new one had a cool afro and was wearing purple crushed velvet bellbottoms with a funky leather vest. These fairies dressed like rock stars.

_I’m trying to get him to the vortex. Keeping track of him is like herding cats._  
**He’s pretty cute though. Too bad is he’s not my size.**  
_We could shrink him._  
**That’s against the rules.**  
_Rules smules. I want some action._

He interrupted them. Are you my fairy godfathers or something?

For some reason they found that very funny.

_Or something._

He had no choice but to stick with them. They each settled on one of his shoulders directing him. They herded him into a meadow of wild flowers. _Keep on the path. Don’t get distracted by the flower people._

The meadow flowers started growing, Jack in the Beanstalk style until they were twice as tall as he was. He peered up. They had faces made of petals in gorgeous day glow colors that almost hurt his eyes. They beamed at him benevolently and bowed as he came past as if he was royalty. In the middle of his bowing back both fairies shot him with little blue thunderbolts.

“Ouch! What the hell!”

_Keep up! We have a date with the vortex!_

They seemed very intent on getting him to this vortex. If there really was a hot guy waiting there, then okay, he was game.

They entered a grove of stately evergreens. They didn’t have faces like the flowers but they radiated golden light that shimmered through the air to touch him as lightly as butterfly wings. The light flowed along his edges then flowed in deeper. He shuddered as it spread through his most tender places. It seemed to know everything; how much he’s been hurt and shamed. The ways he’d hated himself because off it. And lightly, lovingly it started to dissolve all that pain. He closed his eyes and trusted. It might have taken forever or just a moment before he felt it gently leave. He’d been holding his body tight for forever but now it felt loose and almost liquid.

_Hey._

His fairy godfathers nudged him. It was like coming out of a trance. He drowsily opened his eyes and sucked in a breath. A guy was lying under the trees. A beautiful naked guy wearing a flower crown of violets and looking at him as if he’s been waiting to see him his whole life.

He stood up gracefully and Laurent stared at the sight of his body. A perfect body. The width of those shoulders…wow. The movement of the furrowed muscles of his flat stomach and lower….

“Hey, Laurent, up here!” A deep, amused voice brought his attention up to his face. God. His face. Handsome didn’t describe him. Black wavy hair, large deep brown eyes and he was smiling all white perfect teeth and dimples.

“You’re just like I remember you,” he said to him in an almost reverent voice, walking towards him slowly, his expression, awestruck. He must really be tripping too.

“Have we met? I’m sorry I don’t remember you. And I think I would,” Laurent said, sweeping his hand up and down, “Remember I mean. And all of this. I would remember all of this.” He knew he was babbling. He never babbled. “By the way, did you misplace your clothes?”

“You always did talk more when you were uncomfortable. I see that hasn’t changed.” He was looking at him so fondly, just as he would if he actually knew him. “Here, I’ll put on some clothes. I can see I’m making you uncomfortable.”

He turned and pulled on some pants, shimmying his amazing ass into what had to be the world’s tightest jeans. If possible, he looked even hotter. He turned around, brushing his long hair out of his eyes and gave him a shy, flirtatious look, “Is that better?” The jeans accentuated everything. He dragged his eyes away from his bulging crotch.

“If you are trying to give me a heart attack, then yeah.”

That drew another dimple attack and he knew he was gawking.

“But look at you. I’ve never seen you with a tan. Your eyes look turquoise with darker skin.” Again that look of wonder and what seemed like love. This guy was certifiable. It freaked him out that he knew his name.

“Have you been stalking me for a while or something? Are you a serial killer?” He moved back. Where were those damn fairies when he needed them? _Guys!_ he sent out a panicked telepathic message. _Fairy godfathers!_

_Oh for God’s sake, he’s not a serial killer. He’s your soulmate you idiot._

His soulmate? “What do you mean?” Shit. He’d said that out loud.

_Haven’t you ever heard of soulmates?_

_Listen, we weren’t the best people while we were alive and now we’re trying to do a good deed to get out of these damn little fairy bodies so can you just get with the program?_  
_Gorgeous studly dude. You. In love through all time. Together in one life and trying to get back to each other ever since. Yada Yada. Reunited. Mission accomplished!_

He knew he was tripping. It wasn’t real, but maybe he could just roll with it.

The guy was watching him hopefully, his eyes soft yet intense. “I’m Damen and I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’m not a serial killer. Although I’m pretty sure if I was one I’d say the same thing.”

Nice sense of humor. Laurent relaxed just a little. Enough to notice those dark eyes were familiar, like the eyes of the warrior in his dream. Maybe it made sense that if he was going to hallucinate a guy he would be his dream guy. The one he couldn’t get out of his head even after he’d watched him kill Auguste in all those nightmares.

Something was building in intensity between them though. He looked down and saw the center of his chest was glowing this radiant deep pink light that was pulsating out towards this Damen. And his chest was doing the same thing towards him in return.

The two lights met each other and the full soft tenderness in his chest burst like fireworks. It felt like the love he had for Auguste, for his Mom, but so much more.

“You feel it too?” Damen said, his eyes glistening. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been eons that I’ve searched for you.” He gestured between them, “As you see, you are my heart.”

That was romantic as hell.

Laurent stepped towards him, slowly, pulled by the force of this incredible longing spreading through his body. He found himself saying, Damen with all that longing, with wonder and joy that was almost painful. Damen was openly crying, holding himself very still, waiting for him to decide. Then he was right in front of him and he was a step away.

He shook his head, feeling dazed. Damen was watching him with understanding and a little amusement. “This is all moving too fast for you right? You need to understand what’s going on.”

“Yes, can you explain? He briefly, experimentally put his hand on Damen’s chest. “You feel very real for an acid trip hallucination.”

“First off, I’m not a hallucination. I did drop some acid and it sounds like you did too?”

“Yeah, my first time.”

“I think the acid is just making this possible. It’s opening the doors of perception like Aldous Huxley wrote about.”

So, gorgeous and real and he reads books.

Damen gestured to a huge oscillating sphere of light between the trees. It was singing this amazing music like hundreds of angel’s harps . “I could show you. Through there.”

“That’s the vortex right? The one the fairies were taking about.” He felt his face flush. Oh god, maybe Damen thought he was the crazy one, talking about fairies.

Damen gave him another one of those reassuring smiles and his heart sort of jumped in his chest. “Yeah, that’s the vortex. It takes us back in time. The fairies know how to operate it.” He whispered confidingly, “They’re pretty weird right? Did you notice one looks like Jim Morrison and the other one like Jimi Hendrix? Or do you see them differently?”

_Are you two through with introductions? We have a party to get to later. Let’s get this show on the road._ Dragonfly fairy was hovering in front of them, teeny arms crossed and looking pissed.

Laurent said with relief, “Oh good, you see them too.” Now that Damen mentioned it, they did look like those famous dead rock stars. Wow.

Damen said, “Yeah, I hear them telepathically in my head. You too?” Laurent nodded. Damen continued, “I’ve been here a little longer. They already took me through the vortex and back again. They had me watch our story on a floating movie screen.” He shrugged as if to say, I know it’s unbelievable.

He said, “It didn’t hurt but it did make my clothes disappear. They told me I’d get new clothes on the other side and I did. Something like a toga. That’s why I was naked when you showed up. Luckily my regular clothes were here waiting for me.”

This was all sounding like a bad episode of the Twilight Zone. The weird thing was, he really trusted Damen. It just felt right.

_Come on, come on. You two have seen each other naked thousands of times. No time to be shy. The vortex will strip you and then give you new clothes. Let’s get going_.

Damen was holding out his hand. No hesitation, he took it and said, “Okay, I’m ready.” Holding his hand made his whole body buzz. Damen gave him a look like he felt it too and really liked it. His eyes got all sexy.

“Ouch!” He got one of those painful little fairy bolts to his ass.

_Quit mooning you too! Jim and Jimi likes to party and we are going to this new thing called a disco tonight! Into the vortex now_!

Damen gave the fairies a threatening look, “Quit zapping him you little terrors!”

_Now you pissed off his boyfriend and we know from our history, that never goes well!_

Boyfriend? Laurent gazed shyly at Damen, who was looking all protective. Of him!

“Ready?” Laurent nodded. He’d pretty much follow this guy anywhere. It felt like they had this bond. He felt safe.

Keeping their eyes locked, they stepped to the edge of the vortex. He reached into the swirling, sparkling light. It felt like touching music and sent surges of pleasure up his arm. He gasped and Damen said, “Like feeling music right?” Before he could answer Damen gave him one more reassuring look and pulled him in. Being in the vortex was like being in a spinning cloud. He couldn’t see a thing but Damen’s hand had him.

They emerged into a palace, on a balcony overlooking the ocean. It looked like something out of ancient Greece, all white marble columns, stone benches and magnificent views of a deep green sea.

He took a quick inventory. He was wearing clothes. Sort of. That was a relief. It wasn’t exactly a toga but something like it.

“We’re here because this is the place of one of our happiest memories. We had just survived a war, assassination attempts and brought our two countries together after being enemy kingdoms for years. Along the way we fell in love.”

He’d been mesmerized by the wonderful sensation of Damen’s warm, large hand enveloping his and it took a moment to catch up with what he was saying. “We started out enemies and then we fell in love?” He knew he was definitely blushing. He felt melty.

“Yeah. We were enemy Princes who fell in love. Eventually.” At this he curved those full lips into a small smile like it was an inside joke. “Do you want to have me tell you about it or see it? We can watch it like a movie if you want.”

This was an easy decision. He wanted to hear it from Damen. He felt like he’s been starving to hear his voice, to just look at him. This gave him a good reason to stare at him. They sat across from each other on the stone benches. It seemed like Damen felt the same way because he was quietly adoring him with his eyes. Every place he looked over warmed and came alive.

“I’d like to hear it.”

Damen said. “I’ll try to give you the short version. We had a long life together.”

He listened, trying not to gape at Damen. He didn’t know what to make of it all. It was even more heroic and romantic than _Fire From Heaven_. Some of it was awful but most of it was too beautiful to be real.

When Damen finished, he said carefully, “I know that is a lot. You must be overwhelmed.”

“It’s the most romantic story I’ve ever heard. I can’t remember any of it though. Why can you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe because the fairies took me through to prepare and I watched the whole movie version.”

It seemed right to tell him about the dreams. “I have to tell you something. I’ve been dreaming about you since I was a kid. Dreaming about your duel with Auguste. In the dream I have to choose between the two of you and I never can. And when I don’t , it happens just like you said. You kill Auguste. Only it’s really me who kills him because I never choose him. Now I know why I can’t choose. It doesn’t make it in better though.” He wanted to look away because he had tears beginning but he made himself face it and Damen.

He was met with tears that Damen let slide unchecked down his face.

“But Laurent, it didn’t happen that way. Auguste chose to be honorable. To let me pick up my sword. I killed him. Not you.” Damen’s voice was shredded with emotion.

It was hard to accept that fact. He’d been blaming himself for so long. Maybe it was time to stop that. Which was ridiculous because Auguste was alive.

“I have an older brother named Auguste now, did you know that?” The joy of sharing this with Damen was a sense of a circle completing.

“God, I’m so glad. You’re back together in this life.” Damen said, his voice breaking.

Laurent caught himself, stunned by everything he was realizing. “Does this mean we can be reunited with the people we love in this life? Like another chance?”

“It sounds like maybe that’s true.”

“Then you and me? Are we going to?” He hesitated, feeling awkward.

“I don’t know. Going through the vortex twice has made me kind of more in this time than the other. I think we are all matched up. I hope we live in the same time and place.”

“Do you remember where you live? Do you live around Milwaukee too? Did you come to the festival from a ways off?”

“I think I live in Chicago. Yeah, that’s right.”

That’s not too far. We could…” He stopped himself. This was all too overwhelming. “I’m sorry. I’m assuming you want to be together again.”

Damen leaned over and took his hand. He gave him this serious intense look and it was hard to keep eye contact because his touch, just on his hand was making him quiver.

“I do. More than I can tell you. Do you?”

The words flew out. “Yeah, a lot. I want to…”

And then Damen’s lips were gently on his. He startled back because it felt so good and it was so much more than he had ever imagined.

“I’m sorry…” Damen said, “I shouldn’t have…

“No, I mean yes, I want to kiss you, but…I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know what to do and does it always feel that way?” He was breathless, realizing he’d admitted he was embarrassingly inexperienced.

Damen held his face, looking at him as if her were the most important person in his world. “Before I always wished I could court you. That’s how it worked back then. Maybe we should wait. I’ll find you. I’ll court you and when you are ready, the kiss that was always supposed to be our first will happen.”

Laurent felt incredibly shy. He had a hard time holding Damen’s intense eye contact. “That sounds…perfect.”

Hope unfurled in his heart. He let Damen see him, really see him, unguarded. Damen took in a breath. “You are so beautiful. You always were.”

He was so used to people making fun of him, saying he looked like a girl. The way Damen said it was not a put down. Damen actually found him attractive?

Damen caught his discomfort. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No…not exactly. I’m pretty…like a girl.” He kind of choked it out. “I’m effeminate.”

Damen looked confused, “So you think that’s true? Or that there would be something wrong with it if it were true?”

Now Laurent was confused. “Well, sure. You’re the way a guy should be. Masculine.”

“There are a lot of ways for a guy to be. If we’re talking about who I’m attracted to, for me, you are perfect.”

Laurent wasn’t convinced and Damen must have seen it because he said gently, “Would it be okay if I showed you some of our past and you could see yourself from my eyes?”

“Okay.”

He sat next to Damen and the fairies turned on something like a floating movie screen. They watched a scene in which they were at this same palace. They were reclining on a couch and Damen was feeding him bites of an apricot and then kissing and licking off the juice from his lips and neck. Things started out playful but got increasingly sexy.

He looked almost the same as he did now except his hair was shorter, his skin was so white it almost glowed and he was older and more muscular. He could see he was beautiful to Damen. It was the way Damen was gazing in that Laurent’s eyes, the way he touched him with such desire and pure love that convinced him.

Their kisses became more serious, deep and devouring. They were both moaning, twisting in each other’s arms as if they couldn’t get close enough, adoring each other with their eyes and bodies. Damen was saying, “I want you so much, I’ve never wanted anyone as I want you.” and he said, “Damen, when you make love to me like this,” so openly and ravished seemed like the right word.

He realized he was pressed right against Damen, his hand was gripping Damen’s hard, muscled thigh and he was very turned on. He moved away and muttered, “Sorry.” Damen took his hand, stopping him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It turned me on too.”

They stared at each other and Damen softly stroked his hand. “Did it help you realize what a hot sexy guy you are?” He said it in a low, rough voice that Laurent felt like a touch all through his body.

He leaned into Damen, his skin too sensitive, his whole body yearning and his heart so full he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t look away from Damen’s deep brown eyes, noticing his adorable curly lashes and…

_Okay, mission accomplished, it’s time to go back. If you stay here any longer you two are going to miss the timeline shift. And we are going to miss our party. Back to the vortex boys!_

Damen put his arm around him and growled, “Give us a moment.” Then intensely, “What is your full name?”

“Laurent Vere. What is yours?”

“Damianos Akielos, Damen.”

Then the vortex was pulling them in like it had a tractor beam. They gripped hands, eyes clinging to each other. The last thing he remembered was Damen saying, “I promise I will find you!”

And then he heard someone yelling his name, “Laurent! Where the hell are you? Laurent!”

He was lying on the ground. It was nighttime. He pushed himself up. He was under the trees in a meadow of soft ferns. Alone.

“Damen? Damen!” he called out.

The voice yelling for him was coming closer.

It wasn’t Damen. It was Lazar.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice breaking, his words not for Lazar but for Damen. There was no answer. A shape came out of the darkness.

“Thank God I found you! We’ve been looking for you for an hour! The concert is over. God we thought you had a bad trip and something terrible happened to you! Did it?”

He said softly, “No, nothing bad. I…I had a good trip I guess. Sorry you were worried.”

“It’s all right buddy. I’m just glad you’re okay. We’re all mad at ourselves for losing track of you when you were tripping for first time. Auguste especially. Can we go? He and Jord are running around the woods yelling for you like I was.”

He stood up. There was a terrible ache of loss in his heart. It had all been just a hallucination. There wasn’t any real Damen.

“Oh, who’s Damen? I heard you call for someone named Damen.”

“Did I? I guess it was a part of my trip.”

“Oh. I was hoping you met somebody.” Lazar said, his voice gentle.

“Me too,” he answered.

“Well, get dressed. You aren’t the first person to take off your clothes on an acid trip.” It was only then he realized he was naked. Did that mean it had been real?

Lazar called out, “Hey! I found him! He’s okay! Just naked!”

__________________________________

The rest of the summer passed in dreaming. He daydreamed about Damen while at his job, mucking out stables or bringing the horses in from pasture. He dreamed about him at night. Dreams that showed him more of their story or so he thought and hoped. Their love had been epic. Like one of his favorite quotes from _Fire from Heaven_. The greatest of loves can only be made by the soul.

He wanted to tell someone about his trip. About Damen. He almost told Auguste one day when they were out riding, but it hurt too much to talk about.

He even got a Chicago phone book and called the number of a Theo Akielos listed there, but the phone was disconnected. He forced himself to believe it was a trip but part of him believed it was a real memory of a past life. He had been loved once, and maybe, just maybe he would be loved again.

Then it was time for his senior year. He got his long hair cut into a shag. It looked a little more like it had in that other time. He felt changed and he wanted to show it. Auguste noticed he was different somehow. “You seem surer of yourself Laurent.”

“Yeah, I am. I don’t feel ashamed of being gay anymore. I’m fine with the way I am.”

The first day of senior year was different too. He walked through the halls looking everyone in the eye instead of staring straight ahead. The usual bullies left him alone for some reason. Janeen Allen told him he looked older and foxy. Her friends all giggled and made eyes at him. He even sat with them at lunch and they told him all about this new transfer defensive lineman the team was getting from Chicago and how much better the team would be. He started to tune her out, not really interested.

Then they said his name.

“What did you say?”

His name is Damen. Really Damianos Akeilos. He must be Greek! He’s sooo gorgeous. I have Biology with him!”

He quit listening. Damianos Akielos.

“What’s wrong Laurent?”

“Can you describe him? I think I met him this summer at a rock festival.” His heart was racing but he tried to remain cool.

“Oh really? Wow! Well, he’s about six feet five inches, huge! And he has a great tan and these dimples and curly black hair and he is built like a..”

“I get it Janeen.” Somehow he didn’t like Janeen getting all gaga over him.

“Well is that him?”

“I think it is.” It had to be.

“Oh so you know him?” She sounded impressed.

“Well, I met him. We talked.” _We almost kissed. He loved me in another life._ No he wasn’t going to say that. But he absolutely felt like saying, He’s mine. Back off.

Then it was time for gym class and he gratefully left Janeen and her questions about his meeting Damen. Last year he dreaded gym. Naked guys in the shower. Everyone worried he was looking at them that way and they’d catch his gayness. Today he was too distracted by thoughts of Damen. Here in his high school. Unquestionably real.

He moved through the gaggle of guys talking and laughing in the locker room, giving the stare down to anyone who eyeballed him. Most of them were too busy grouped up and yacking at the end of the lockers to give him much notice.

It seemed someone really had their interest. He opened his locker and then glanced over, curious.

Dark eyes caught his across the room. Dark eyes that opened wide as they recognized him. He pushed through the crowd as he moved towards him, those eyes never wavering. Until he was standing by his locker and it was him. It was Damen. Could your heart actually explode?

“Laurent.” That word said with so much love and longing just like before. He didn’t seem to care that the room had gotten weirdly quiet and everyone was staring.

“Damen.” The most perfect word. The most beautiful name.

“I found you! Do you remember?” Damen’s face as entranced as if he’d found nirvana.

“I remember everything.” He almost whispered it.

Damen gave him a hug. No, it was more like an embrace. Looking down at him adoringly.  
“Thank God. I found you. Finally.”

From across the room Kenny Stevens yelled. “Hey is he your boyfriend or something?”  
Loud, immature laughter.

Damen kept his arm around him and pulled him closer. He snuggled into his chest. “No, not yet. But I hope he will be.”

The laughter got louder and somebody actually shrieked hysterically. Like they’d seen a ghost. A queer one.

Then Sam Collins said, “Oh gay!” This time no one laughed. Speechless for once.

Damen gave Laurent one of those dimpled smiles that just slayed him. Laurent reluctantly turned his attentions to Sam and said boldly, “Yeah. Gay. Hopefully together.”

Damen added. “Definitely. That’s the best way!” The locker room went silent.

Then just to Laurent. “Wait until I start courting you. This school will never be the same.”

His eyes said so much more and Laurent could barely breath. His thoughts sped ahead to everything to come. He wasn’t sure what courting would mean to Damen, but he hoped it meant love poems and romantic walks along Lake Michigan. And making out. Lots of making out.

Damen seemed to read his mind. “I will court you with the grace and courtesy you deserve.”

His tone got even lower and deeper, and Laurent was lost in his chocolate eyes. “And then, I can’t wait to make love to you again. It’s been a long time.”

Laurent shocked himself by flirting right back, “You’d better. I’ve only waited for over a thousand years.”

Damen’s eyes crinkled and he held him closer.

Coach Pascal yelled in the door, “What the hell is taking you so long? Get your butts in the gym!”

The locker room started to clear.

Laurent felt daring. “Want to play hooky?”

Damen said, “And risk getting suspended from the team? Just for you? Yeah. That’s a no brainer. I want to know everything about you. Right now. We’ve waited those thousand years after all.”

Then solemnly, hopefully, “And I really want to meet Auguste.”

And with that, his happiness couldn’t be contained by all the walls he’d had to build to survive. He had forgotten happiness. He’d stopped trusting or thinking it could be his.

“Is this real?”

“As real as a heart attack babe.”

Okay, that was a stupid line but he’d forgive him.

Because.

Babe.

**And somewhere in another dimension, in a twinkle of fairy dust, Jim and Jimi lost their wings, grew man sized once more and really, really got down to it at the disco.**


End file.
